


Hem Hem

by Kungfoogirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kungfoogirl/pseuds/Kungfoogirl
Summary: Cross posted from FF.Umbridge interrupts Minerva as she prepares to administer this year's OWLs.





	Hem Hem

"Hem, hem". The voice came from a short, squat figure standing in the shadows of a large stone archway that served as the entrance to a stately office. Bouncing from one stone wall to another, the words echoed in the room. Besides the bookshelf, the room was decorated in an rather utilitarian fashion. Sparse tapestries, mostly in gold and maroon, hung on the walls. The walls themselves were lined with glass shelves containing various magical instruments and more than a few crystal goblets. Tucked away in one unusual corner of the cavernous room stood a collection of animal cages. Some were occupied while others were covered. Situated in the center of room was an expansive desk piled high with parchment and ancient tomes. The desk itself was centered directly in front of an impressive stained glass depicting a lion sitting atop a dias surrounded by small men and women in long flowing robes. Behind the desk sat a handsome woman, her head bent over her work. She paused for the briefest of moments, adjusted her glasses slightly, and dipped her quill in the inkwell. As if she were alone, she returned to her work.

"Hem, hem", came the voice again. Perhaps this time there was a touch of impatience.

The woman looked up from her work, irritated. Locking her eyes on the uninvited guest at her door, she adjusted herself in her seat. She returned to her work with a sigh.

For two entire minutes, the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of the professor's quill against the parchment.

"Hem, he-"

Before she could finish her fake throat-clearing (which, for the record, was now famous at Hogwarts, and was endlessly imitated by the students), she was interrupted. "Would it bother you terribly to explain why you're insisting on interrupting me while I'm clearly working, Dolores?"

"Well, Professor, I am, technically speaking, High Inquisitor Umbridge. I don't mind if you call me Dolores in private, but I would be quite appreciative if you properly addressed me in front of the students. It would make me very sad to have to ask Cornelius, I mean Minister Fudge, to draft an educational decree to address the issue."

The professor peered at Umbridge over the tops of her glasses. Her lips pursed a little in an attempt to remain polite that was nearly unsuccessful. "You came all the way up to my office -and interrupted me, no less- simply to ensure that I don't call you 'Dolores'?", Minerva asked. "You seem quite content to leave notices in the staffroom when other matters are concerned."

Umbridge blushed as she took a few tentative steps into the room. The hard soles of her shoes clacked loudly against the stone floor. Once out of the shadows, Dolores Umbridge resembled a frog, not to put too fine a point on it. Her eyes buldged out of the sockets, while the skin around her neck fell into what could only be described as "flaps". Yet, it was really her short stature and round shape that gave her the unmistakable appearance of a frog.

"Well, Professor McGonagall, I was actually hoping to talk to you about a more...private matter. One that doesn't concern the Ministry Of Magic. Or Hogwarts, actually." She stared hard at her feet, turning a deeper shade of red with each passing moment.

Again, silence filled the room.

"Well? What is it?", asked Professor McGonagall iritably. "I'm not in a position to be dilly-dallying, to be truthful. O.W.L.S. are coming up soon, and my fifth years need my undivided attention. Have you seen Longbottom's transfiguration marks?"

"I was, hem, wondering if I might be able to actually come inside? I find it rather distracting to talk while we're clear across the room from one another." Dolores Umbridge looked up briefly, but returned to staring at her shoes once McGonagall caught her eye.

"You've certainly never hesitated before. And it would do you quite well to tell me what's on your mind. You're acting very out of sorts, I do say."

Umbridge shuffled across the room, past the ancient tomes on the bookshelves and around the pedestal holding the House Cup, and took a seat in a rather rickety wooden chair next to Professor McGonagall's desk. The legs of the chair screeched loudly against the floor as Umbridge scooted closer to the desk. Across the room, what must have been a large bird started squawking from within it's secluded cage.

"Silencio!" McGonagall quieted the bird with a single wave of her wand. She sighed again, and turned expectantly to Dolores.

"Well, Minerva..."

"PROFESSOR McGonagall, please," Minerva corrected, as her guest continued to stare at the ground.

"Oh, quite well. PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL. Hem. As I said, I was hoping to discuss a more personal matter with you. Hem..."

"Is something wrong with your shoes, Inquisitor Umbridge? A reason you keep staring at them?"

"Wha? No. I just. Hem..."

"To the point, then, please. I am, as I've said, quite busy."

Dolores Umbridge tore her gaze away from her shoes and looked McGonagall in the face as best she could. Her large, amphibian eyes blinked several times before she final spoke again. "Well, next weekend is trip to Hogsmeade. And according to the notes I have from the staff meeting, you'll be accompanying the students on the trip."

"Yes, that's what we arranged. But if you'd rather I stay here with the rest of the students, that's quite fine. I just have a list of supplies that I need to send along with someone. Was that all you needed?"

"Well, actually. No. That's not quite what I had in mind, you see." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I was wanting to know if you were still planning on accompanying the students, and to see if you were able to be at the Three Broomsticks around 3:00."

"Most certainly. That shouldn't be a problem." Umbridge smiled widely, her thin lips almost disappearing. McGonagall turned back towards her work and begain shuffling papers around until she found a particular roll of parchment. She dipped her quill in her inkwell again. "Should I notify Professor Flitwick of this new staff meeting, or will that responsibility fall on you?"

"Huh? Wha? Flitwick?" Umbridge's face fell. "I actually meant just you, Minerva." She looked a little more hopeful, as she continued, "Perhaps a mug of butterbeer. A glass of firewhiskey if we're up to the task! I thought you might enjoy a few hours away from the job." She returned to staring at her shoes. "I thought we might get a chance to...you know...talk," she said quietly.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge! Why, I never! That would be entirely inappropriate! What if students saw? Professors, drinking firewhiskey? We have a duty to set good examples!. I would have thought that you, of all people, would know that, High Inquisitor Umbridge."

Umbridge stopped staring at her shoes, and was intently studying the edge of her robe instead.

"And if Cornelius knew..."

At the sound of the Minister of Magic's name, Umbridge jerked her head up. She looked more like a frog than ever with her eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping. "But, but. He'd UNDERSTAND, Minerva," she stammered.

"That's quite enough. If you please!" McGonagall stood and gestured towards the door.

Umbridge rose from her chair slowly. She was standing so very close to McGonagall that it made her blush again.

She looked up at McGonagall, who towered over the inquisitor. For a brief, awkward moment they locked eyes.

Finally, Umbridge summoned the courage, and grabbed the front of McGonagall's robes. With a sudden jerk, she pulled the taller woman downwards until thier lips met in a bizarre kiss. Despite being shorter, Umbridge's mouth dwarfed McGonagall's thin, feminine lips.

McGonagall pulled away from the impromptu kiss, causing a loud sound that resembled a Suckerslug being pulled from the underside of a mandrake plant.

"Dolores," she said.

"Oh! Minerva!" cried Umbridge, her lips pursed for another kiss.

"If you ever try that again, I will hex you in to next Tuesday," McGonagall quietly threatened. "I trust you'll find your own way out. Close the door behind you."

Crushed, Umbridge eventually turned and took one reluctant step after another towards the doorway. She stopped just once to look back at McGonagall. She opened her mouth as if to say something. Something in the look on McGonagall's face discouraged any further comment.

The door closed behind her with a heavy thud.

McGonagall returned to her desk and sat for a moment or two, watching the door.

"Darling," she called. "It's safe. She's gone."

From the far corner of the room, Madam Hooch crawled out from behind a few of the larger, covered bird cages. Grinning widely, she adjusted her robes as she took her seat in the chair previously occupied by Umbridge.

"Did she really..." Hooch started, but broke into giggles before she could finish.

"It's not funny, Xiomara! You didn't have that wart-ridden old toad kiss you!"

"She did not!" cried Madam Hooch, barely containing another fit of giggles.

"She most certainly did, and it was appaling."

"I wonder where she ever got the idea to do that!" Madam Hooch stood and kissed Minerva McGonagall on the cheek. "Don't work too late, sweetness. If you stop by later, I'll fix you a hot cup of tea and draw you a bath."

"You're far good for me, you know."

"Yes, I do know." Madam Hooch winked and left McGonagall to her work.


End file.
